


Seams

by ShinySherlock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Feels, Love, Multi, Pregnancy, Protection Magic, chosen family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 05:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5484581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinySherlock/pseuds/ShinySherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha knows Laura’s request, will happily grant it, but the words must be said.</p>
<p>“You know the drill,” Natasha says kindly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knitmeapony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitmeapony/gifts).



> Knit's prompt was "Mythical Creature/Human = MCU and or Marvel Netflix verse, if that's different for you -- all ladies please but you pick the ladies." Knit, IDEK where this came from; I just wanted something beautiful and positive for these two. Thank you so much for the prompt. <3  
> Set a few months prior to the events in Age of Ultron. Laura/Nat as part of consensual Laura/Clint/Nat; Nat as faery/fae. Also, my knowledge of faeries is hella limited so apologies ahead of time if I’ve fucked it up.

 

The moon is waxing, bright and nearly full, but Natasha slips between the rowan trees like a ghost, her steps light and silent along the forest floor. She hovers at the edge of the circle, a shadow, but Laura already knows she’s there. Laura always knows, and Natasha wonders if she doesn’t have a little bit of the fae in her as well.

Natasha gives up her hiding spot and walks over. 

“Damn it,” she says, and Laura just smiles and shrugs.

“Remember who I’m married to.”

Nat tilts her head and a corner of her mouth lifts in a smile. “You’d make a helluva agent.”

“You bet your ass I would,” Laura answers easily. She gives a shrug. “I made different choices.”

She glances down, looks up, and Natasha knows. Without hesitation, she places the flat of her palm against Laura’s belly. “How far along?” she asks.

No longer surprised by Natasha’s uncanny abilities, Laura just answers. “Five weeks.”

Natasha would have known without touching her, would have sensed the small, bright energy, the tiny presence like a spark. Spurred by something in Laura’s voice, Natasha says, “You’re worried.”

Laura puffs out a nervous laugh. “I’m, uh--” She looks away a moment. “Not as young as I used to be.”

Natasha’s other hand slides around Laura’s, holding tight, and she lets her energy trickle out and into, meted out so as to comfort, not overwhelm, yet Laura’s eyes are shining anyway. Natasha knows Laura’s request, will happily grant it, but the words must be said.

“You know the drill,” Natasha says kindly.

Laura nods, takes a breath. “I’m asking you to protect this child, and in return . . . I offer to name it in your honor.”

Eyes wide, Natasha protests. “It doesn’t have to be--” 

“I know.”

Her voice is failing her, the words are soft and fast. “You only have to offer  _ something _ , it’s a token, a formality--”

“Nat.” Laura squeezes Natasha’s hands between both of her own. “I know.”

Overcome, in a way she rarely is, Natasha blinks back tears. The way Laura has surrounded her with love is almost too much to bear--certainly too much to believe--at times. At first, it was Laura’s faith in her husband’s judgement that allowed her to welcome Natasha, so broken, so wary. But now--

Now it’s Laura’s own faith--in Natasha. When Natasha looks in Laura’s eyes or feels her arms around her, it’s so much more than acceptance; it is home.

“So?” Laura prompts.

“Yeah.” Natasha sniffs, rolls her eyes. “Yes, of course, yes!”

She pulls Laura into a crushing hug, arms tight and hands grasping, and Laura sinks into it, letting herself be held. When Laura slides her own hands around Natasha, presses her hands along Natasha’s back to bring her even closer, Natasha is transported. Her mind, her body, calls up memories of their time together--meeting her for the first time in a hotel room in New York as they worked together to heal her bloody, fevered husband; telling her she was fae, seeing her take that in as if it weren’t any weirder than anything else she’d already encountered and then asking her if spaghetti was okay for dinner; having The Talk between the three of them, and, later, snuggling up against Laura, skin to skin, and feeling more peace than she had ever known.

Laura’s hand rubs up and down her back, an anchor holding fast against the waves, and it brings Natasha back to the present. She relents, releasing Laura, but she doesn’t wipe her eyes. She never was allowed tears Before; she hoards every one now, all the genuine ones, especially the ones born of love.

She sniffs and gives Laura a little nod, and Laura takes a step back, knowing Natasha needs a little room to work. 

Natasha focuses her energy, her eyes fluttering shut as she concentrates her intent. She feels the warmth gathering inside her, radiating out along her arms. When her eyes open, she knows her irises are flashing bright, sparking like fire, and she admits that she loves the way Laura’s gaze is riveted. The warmth builds in Natasha’s hands, a cyan glow growing from each palm. 

She reaches forward, hears Laura’s little gasp as she holds her hands against Laura’s belly and speaks the words in a language older than English, older than Russian, older than any language she officially knows. The energy spreads, through her, over and into Laura, surrounding her belly in light. Natasha can see it, sense it sinking into Laura’s body, coalescing in a bright sphere at the center of her. For a moment, it seems Laura can see it, too--she’s looking down and smiling, awe in her eyes.

“Done,” Natasha says with a smile, her voice thick.

Laura covers her hands with one of her own; the other reaches up to Natasha’s face, cupping her jaw as she looks up into Natasha’s eyes. She’s crying, tears spilling over even as she smiles and says, “Thank you.”

Love seeping through her seams, Natasha wants to collect her tears, too, and she leans forward to brush her lips against Laura’s cheeks, every little kiss a blessing.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thank yous to my wonderful Jude for betawork. <3


End file.
